


the end of all things.

by Pinkpuddles



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Blood, Bombs, Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkpuddles/pseuds/Pinkpuddles
Summary: they were from two separate sides, it was never meant to be.





	the end of all things.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this since April (7 MONTHS), and have put all my time and effort into it, so if you do make it to the end then I do hope you enjoy it, because I certainly enjoyed (the majority of) the process of writing it.

Dan doesn't know how long it takes to detonate a bomb, but PJ sure is taking his time, and with every second that ticks past, Dan only worries further that he's going to run into someone on the other side, someone who isn't so nice.

The head of the other side is a sadistic, ruthless leader, an anonymous, sadistic, ruthless leader nonetheless, which means that there's positively no chance that he can get in trouble for anything that he ends up doing. He craves death, Dan reckons is an appropriate summary of his personality- not for himself but for others. He wants control, he uses fear against society, who desperately need protecting, which is exactly what Dan's team are doing. They fight against evil, and death, and destruction. They protect people, for this can't go on any longer. It has to end.

The Other Side is not pleasant. The people are most definitely not good to run in to, and Dan knows that for a fact because he's had plenty of close calls in the past. He runs into many of them, and he would, with the job that he has, and they make it very clear who they are and what side they belong to. Hoods and darkness often mask the majority of their faces, a bandana covering their mouth, with a bright red gash across it. Their uniform, so to speak.

Dan is pressed up against a wall in the building that the bomb was discovered in. The brick is cold against his back, as is the air and Dan is left to wonder if they ever turn the heating on in these places. It was long since evacuated, so Dan knows there won't be anyone going up or down these hallways that aren't either on his side or on the other side. When he finally receives a message that PJ has successfully detonated and disposed of the bomb, he makes a dash for it, sprinting down the corridor the way that he came. He hastily turns a sharp corner and collides with someone, suddenly alert. Dan falls backwards, quickly grabbing his pistol. He takes one look at the person he has collided with, and it's a Sider. The bandana covers their mouth, but the hood has fallen back, displaying his ink black hair and his arctic blue eyes. When they connect with Dan's they widen, and they spend a moment of silence looking at each other. Dan still has his gun pointed at him, but the other drops his own, letting it clatter against the floor. He puts his hands up in defence, pulling his bandana down to rest under his chin, shutting his eyes tight.

"Look, I'm not going to shoot you, I don't want to, swear."

Dan feels his mouth go dry. He's never met a Sider who didn't seem to want to cause him harm. The situation is new, and something that even training couldn't have prepared him for. He takes a deep breath, making eye contact with the stranger once his eyes open, and keeping his gun cocked and aimed. He knows he has to be the bigger man in this scenario.

"How do I know?" He asks, with squinting eyes and a tilted head. 

The Sider kicks his gun away, the metal scraping across the concrete, before shrugging off his rucksack, and tugging off the belt slung loosely around his hips. He lets them both fall to the floor, kicking them away as well.

"I'm sorry, I just want to go home," The stranger speaks, his voice raspy. "I've been doing this for years, I don't want to do it any more."

Dan is about to reply before the radio clipped onto his belt begins to crackle.

"Howell, Howell, where are you? Radio back- stat- over."

Dan keeps his eyes trained on the seemingly paralysed man opposite him, and his finger on the trigger of his gun, before pulling his radio out to communicate back.

"Howell to base, I'm alive, hit a minor setback. I'll be fine. Do not send back up, let Liguori know he's good to retreat- over."

"Will do, Howell. Good job today- over."

Dan doesn't bother replying, placing his radio back onto his belt. He stands up quickly so that he's level with the Sider, soon realising that he's bigger than him, and using this to intimidate him.

"And why should I believe you?" Dan speaks, growing closer to the man. He seems to shake under Dan's glare, and Dan feels a twinge of pity pull at his heart.

"You have no reason to believe me. Kill me, if you like. I don't want to carry on doing this," The Sider mutters quietly, his eyes glazed over with tears. Dan lowers his gun, though still wary, and it seems to startle the stranger. Dan smiles sympathetically.

"I'm not going to kill you," Dan reassures him. "I would have- if you weren't so damn nice. Makes a change I suppose." Dan's almost shocked at the words that he feels he has no control over, but he knows now that the stranger doesn't mean any harm, and unless he knows some serious karate, all his means of destruction have been slung onto the concrete behind them. Blue eyes widen at Dan's words, and if he's not mistaken, the Sider's face has definitely grown a few shades of pink darker. "Do you have a name?"

"Yeah, of course. Phil, Lester. My friends- used to call me Phil, and my team calls me Lester. Don't call me Lester, I hate it," Phil says, his head dropping. "Anyways, what about you?"

"Dan. Howell."

"Right, well, I should-"   
The radio on Phil's belt- which is incredibly similar to Dan's- crackles behind them, and their heads both turn to look at it until a clear voice echoes out.

"Lester, Lester, get here now. Boss wants you and he's fucking fuming again, nice fucking job, idiot."

"I better go, now, then," Phil mumbles downheartedly, letting out a quiet sigh.

"That was rude of them," Dan pointed out, feeling pity for the Sider, an emotion he never expected to feel. Pity for Siders was unheard of, laughed at. 

"I suppose," Phil shrugs. "You get used to it after a while. Anyways, I need to go, I'm sorry."

"I'll see you around, Phil."

"And you, Dan."

Since that day, the two boys had seen each other a few more times, finding themselves sat on the rooves of buildings and talking about everything, but nothing, all at the same time. Of course, Dan was sceptical at first, he was almost positive that it was a trap, but he soon forgot. He had found a friend, he was sure of it, and it made him beyond happy. It meant that his missions were more exciting, just because he got to see the boy he adored, with ebony hair and icy eyes. Phil too had been affected, with Dan's sudden presence in his life changing him, and soft coffee curls with gold and chocolate eyes- always soft and compassionate- reminding him what it felt like to feel warm, and loved, and making him want to go on.

-

Another attack. This time on a local office block, and yet another bomb threat. Dan pushed through the door, PJ flashing him a brief smile, before running off, to tackle the bomb, probably.

"Howell to the top floor. They've hinted at holding hostages, we need to you investigate. Radio as soon as you think you need back up. Over."

"Will do, over."

Dan makes his way up the stairs, passing Louise who pats him on the back until he reaches what he presumes is the main office. The glass door is smashed, so Dan quietly steps in, pulling his gun out and placing his hand on the trigger. He pressed himself up against the wall, hearing voices from around the corner.

"-be if you weren't so shit, we would have been able to blow up the fucking hospital. I don't know why Boss even keeps you around. Oh wait, I fucking know, you're his punching bag, who's too weak to fight back."

"Lucien, leave it."

Dan recognises that voice. It's Phil. Dan doesn't move, because the other guy seems like a right asshole. Dan is busy devising a plan when he hears voices again.

"Right, I'm off. Can I leave you up here, or will you fuck it up like you normally do?"

"I'll stay here."

"Answer my question."

Phil pauses. "I won't mess up," He sighs.

"We'll see about that."

Dan panics then because as soon as the Sider turns the corner, he'll spot Dan. And Dan will be killed. He quickly steps back out the office, dashing into an empty room, and shutting the door behind him. He gasps for air as quietly as he can, before holding his breath, gun out just in case. He lets his gaze fall on a book discarded on the floor as he strains to focus on the noises from outside. He prays with every fibre of his being that base won't radio him, and luckily, the Sider disappears down the stairs before he can gather any evidence that Dan was there. He makes his way back into the office, stepping over broken glass, and turning the corner quickly. Phil looks up, alarmed, and Dan notices the tears in his eyes and dribbling down his cheeks. The thing that grasps Dan's attention, is the dark purple bruise on the side of Phil's face, blotchy and swollen. Phil reacts quickly, wiping his tears away with his sleeve and wincing when he touches the inflamed area. His bandana is pushed down under his chin, revealing his lip, which was split and bloody. Dan stepped forward, slowly reaching a hand up to place it on the side of Phil's face which wasn't bruised.

"What happened to you?" Dan asks though he's sure he already knows.

Phil takes a shuddering breath, as another tear falls down his face.

"Boss. He normally takes his anger out on me, but I think this time it was just a bit too much. Plus, everyone else has been picking on me, calling me worthless, and I just find myself thinking, if I get killed in this run, I don't think I'd mind."

"Don't say that," Dan tells him, gently brushing Phil's tears away. He reaches back into his pocket, where he knows a small first aid box lies. He pulls it open, and Phil watches quietly as he lets Dan patch him up. A little tape on the lip to prevent it from splitting any further, and then he's asking Phil if he's hurt anywhere else. Phil holds out his left hand, and Dan smiles- if only to reassure Phil that it's all going to be okay, and then he's wrapping Phil's hand in a bandage, and gently caressing his injured knuckles. "You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be treated this way."

"I don't have a choice. If I tried to leave he'd kill me. But then, how much longer can I stay here before he kills me first? I just want to go home."

"One day, you will. I'm sure of it. You'll be able to-"

"Lester! You best still be up there!"

Phil's eyes widen, and his hands start shaking. Dan looks at him.

"Dan, you need to hide," Phil panics, looking around the room quickly, his breaths increasing. Dan acts quickly, a spur of the moment decision as he knows he has little time.

"Phil, I need you to trust me," Dan speaks quietly, quickly dropping to his knees. Phil looks taken aback until Dan turns around, so he's facing the doorway. "Put one hand in my hair and one over my mouth."

Phil does so, but not before rapidly pulling his hood up, so he's gently clutching onto Dan's curls, just as Lucien enters the office, hopping over the glass. Phil can just make out the glint in Lucien's eyes from under the hood, a steely grey that pierces Phil's own and he pulls down his bandana to reveal a smirk.

"Well, well, maybe you aren't as useless as I thought you were, Lester," He chuckles slyly. "Who's this then, one of Howard's?" Lucien places one curled finger underneath Dan's chin, lifting it up slightly. Dan struggles, moving his head away. He knows now that Phil won't hurt him, so he feels safer than he thought he would in the presence of two Siders. Phil knows how this works, so he pulls Dan up to stand, removing his hands from his brown curls to hold Dan's hands together behind his back. Dan struggles in his gentle grip to make the scene look more realistic, and his hazelnut eyes glare daggers into the ash grey ones that belong to the Sider that he doesn't know. Phil pushes him forward, as Lucien brings his arm round to clap Phil on the back. "Nicely done, Nicely done. Boss'll be outside, he'll be happy with this one." He lets out the most gut-wrenching of laughs, mocking Dan entirely. Phil leads him through the glass, keeping a soft grip on Dan's hands, and another hand over his mouth, fingers split to let Dan breathe, and Dan notices how soft Phil's skin is against his cheek. When they reach the stairway, Phil quickly lets go, reaching for Dan's shoulders and turning him, so he almost loses his balance. His hand returns to Dan's face, holding it gently.

"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?" Phil whispers, careful not to let Lucien hear.

"No," Dan smiles breathily, buzzing from the thrill and exhilaration of what just happened. He links his fingers with Phil's, slowly pulling him down the stairs. "We can't let anyone see us together."

"I know, I know."

"And what are you going to do when Lucien asks your Boss about me?"

"Lie. You got away."

"But they'll-"

"They'll do what they do, Dan," He mumbles softly, gazing off down the stairway. "I don't have a choice, I can't do anything."

"It's not fair," Dan whines softly, taking Phil's other hand and pressing their foreheads together. Their steady breaths mingle in the air between them, and both boys would have been content to stay there forever. "Come with me."

"What do you mean?"

"Run away with me. We can go somewhere away from here, where no one will find us. Not your team, not mine, no one."

Phil pulls away, disappointment etched into his features. "I would, you know I would. But-" Phil turns, pushing down his sleeve so that the pale skin of his wrists are revealed. There's a metal band wrapped around it, tight, Dan notices, and he raises one eyebrow in confusion. "I can't. Tracking chip."

Dan physically cringes at that, he would never have guessed that Siders had it so bad. He gently drags the tips of his fingers over Phil's rough palm- and Phil flinches at his touch, so he brings his hand away. "They treat you like goddamn animals, why?"

"I don't know, I got grouped in with some people from Uni, and then before I could change anything I was fucking knocked unconscious and woke up with this thing." He quickly pulls his sleeve down. Then it was all training and shit and now I'm here and I hate it. I haven't heard from my friends or family in years and I just want to go home, Dan. That's why I'm so thankful that I met you, as short a time as we've known each other, you understand me, you make me happy, make life seem worth it. I need you."

"Can't you take it off?"

"You think I haven't tried?"

"I wish I could help you," Dan spoke, burying his head into Phil's shoulder.

"But you have, thank you, thank you."   
Then, as Dan pulls away, Phil reaches up, taking Dan's cheeks in his grazed hands, and slotting their lips together in a mind-numbingly perfect kiss. Dan pulls away, only to breathe, before moving back in, pressing Phil against the wall of the staircase, no longer giving a shit if anyone saw them.

"God, God, Phil. Stay with me, I need you too, please."

"Dan, be mine?"

"Yes, yes, every day, yes."

They were infatuated by each other. Phil consumed Dan's every thought, every moment, as Dan consumed Phil's. When Dan should be shooting down Siders and protecting the civilians of London, he was most likely huddled up to Phil in a storeroom or a toilet cubicle, their lips interlocked, their hands intertwined, chests pressed together. They had both put so little effort into the missions that Dobbs (Howard's assistant) had called Dan into Howard's office, and displayed his concern about Dan's lack of work. Dan had rapidly apologised, mentally scolding himself for not working harder to conceal his relationship with Phil. He had sworn to work harder, again apologising. Shuffling out the door awkwardly, he blushed heavily. If only Howard and Dobbs knew. They were never supposed to get romantically involved with Siders, as it would distract them, which was really an unspoken rule, as no one had ever come across an Other Sider who didn't seem to wish death upon all of them. He was about to make his way home when Dobbs poked his head out of the door.

"Oh, and Howell? We're expecting another mission at some point next week, so I'll be keeping you updated. I trust you'll take Howard's advice into account?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Enjoy your evening, Howell."

As Dobbs had warned, there was another mission the next week, rather early that dreary Tuesday morning, in the centre of London. Dan spots Phil from quite a while away and watches anxiously as he moves away from the group and towards him, before taking his hand and running down the streets, which were void of people. He pulls Dan down a long alleyway, and they collapse together at the end of it. Phil has his knees drawn up ever so slightly, and Dan climbs over them so their chests press together and Dan can rest his head on Phil's shoulder. Phil wraps his arms around the younger boy securely.

"Howard says I'm slacking at work," Dan says nonchalantly into Phil's neck with a shrug.

"Dan, Dan you have to be more careful, what are you doing? You need to be out there," Phil gasps quietly, moving back to look at the boy curled up in his lap.

"It's fine- I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, it's not," Phil spoke, taking Dan's hands in his own, and staring into his soft eyes. "No one can know what we have."

"And no one will know, how can they?"

"Dan. If anyone gets suspicious then that's it. We're done for."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Dan mumbles, pulling his hands out of Phil's grip to cuddle against him. He exhales quietly. "I've got a plan."

"You're tired."

"No, plan."

"Sleep. I've got you, love."

Dan sighs deeply, his eyes closing as he wallows in the warmth of Phil's arms around him. He hums contently.

"Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna get us out of here."

Dan wakes up when there's a sudden sharp movement beneath him. It startles him, and then his brain is awake and wondering what's going on. His eyes open quickly, and he comes to the realisation that there's a hand pressing against his mouth as he tries to breathe in but finds himself unable to. He mumbles in confusion, and then he feels Phil's breath against his ear.

"Stay still, be quiet. Don't move."

"Phil, what's going on?" He breathes, butterflies quickly forming as his heart races. He's then shaking because he knows exactly what would happen if they were found down here.

"It's a Sider. Quiet."

They lie in silence, but Dan can feel Phil's racing pulse against the side of his face where he's pressed into Phil's neck, and he hears his own heartbeat echo through his ears. The silence is broken by a gunshot and a cry of pain, which makes Dan flinch, and Phil's arms hold him tighter.

"Phil, Phil."

"It's okay, it's alright. Just stay still, okay? We'll wait it out if we have to."

The shadow of a figure dances on the concrete in front of them almost mockingly and Phil eyes it carefully for any indication that the figure is approaching or clearly armed. They're hidden beside a large bin, so they can't be seen from the entrance of the alleyway, but if the figure moves forward then he'll see the both of them, and then god knows what could happen.

"I know there's someone down there," A familiar voice speaks. It's PJ, Dan knows it, a cheery voice even when speaking seriously, which makes Dan smile ever so slightly. He breathes out heavily, relieved. He goes to stand up and Phil pulls him back. He looks up at Dan with wide eyes and Dan grins at him. "Come out now or I'm coming in." Dan pulls away quickly, and Phil grabs his wrist as he stumbles back into the light.

"PJ! It's me, Dan."

"Dan? What the fuck are you doing down here?"

"I was just," Dan smiles innocently, tugging his wrist sharply out of Phil's grip. "Checking. For, people. Siders."

"In an alleyway. With a dead end."

"Exactly."

"Howard mentioned you'd been slacking," PJ mentions, pulling his bag over his shoulder further. "Is this what that's about? What are you up to? Who's down there?"

"No one, PJ, just me."

"If it's a Sider I'm going to freak."

"PJ, stop. Let's just go."

"Come out, Dan's friend. I'm not armed," PJ speaks loudly, leaning to the side to look into the darkness behind Dan. He takes PJ's arm, hoping to pull him out of the alleyway before Phil's presence becomes apparent, but Dan swears under his breath when he sees Phil emerge. He sees the moment PJ realises, as although his bandana is pushed under his chin and his hood is gathered around his neck, it's evident that PJ doesn't recognise Phil, and it's obvious that he and Dan clearly didn't mean to be seen together. Plus, PJ has seen Phil on previous missions, the majority of their team has. "It's a Sider. Dan, what the fuck?"

"Phil, come here," Dan beckons, gesturing for him to approach them with his free hand. Phil approaches Dan tentatively, keeping his eyes trained on PJ for any sudden moves. He stands behind Dan, and Dan brings his head round to kiss Phil's jaw. "It's okay. I won't let him do anything," He whispers, and Phil is grateful for his reassurance. When Dan turns back around, PJ's eyes are wide, and he stumbles backwards.

"You're together? Dan, can I please-"  
Suddenly, all three of them are startled by a painfully loud crash from behind PJ, followed by an echoing bang, which the force of seems to startle PJ, and he stumbles forward.   
"What the fuck was that?" He asks, his head turning. The street behind him looks normal, if not eerily quiet. "Do you have anything to do with this?" PJ spits, pointing to Phil.

"No, I don't- I didn't think-" It happens again, but this time louder, and PJ lunges forward and sharply grasps Dan's wrist.

"Come on, we have to get out of here."

"Liguori, where are you? We need you out there, now, and have you seen Howell? Radio back, over," PJ's radio crackles. He sighs quickly and swipes it, holding it close to his face.

"I'm on my way, and Howell is with me, over." His finger moves from the button on the side to stop the recording, quickly fiddling to attach it to the belt slung around his hips. "Come on, Dan."

"I can't leave him," Dan whines, grasping Phil's arm, and PJ grunts breathily in frustration. Phil reaches his other hand up, using it to guide Dan's face around, looking into his eyes and smiling sadly.

"I'll be fine, I always am. I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" He smiles, gently prying Dan's hand off his arm. Dan lets go reluctantly, but nods. Phil pulls his hood up, leaning down slightly to kiss Dan's knuckles, before pulling away and tugging up the bandana. "Now go."

PJ makes brief eye contact with Phil, before pulling away quickly whilst he has the chance. Once they leave the alleyway, PJ releases a breath of relief and slight shock at what just happened, before breaking into a sprint that Dan struggles to keep up with. His grip is still tight on Dan's wrist, and they dash through the few short, barren streets, making it to the city centre in no time, ready to be given the next task. As they stand and listen to Howard with the rest of them, who Dan notices strangely doesn't have Dobbs by his side, and pant for breath, PJ leans in from behind him and mumbles in his ear.

"We are definitely talking about this when we get back to the office."

Dan swallows anxiously.

-

"I know, as well, exactly what's going to happen. It's a trap, Dan," PJ whispers loudly, slamming his hand onto the wooden desk of the spare room they had snuck into. "You're already obsessed with him; not working because of it. One day he's gonna ask what our team is up to, tactic wise, and then because you love him so much you'll tell him, or he'll force it out of you, and then, bam!" PJ throws his hands in the air dramatically. "That's the whole agency gone, ruined, defeated. Then the Siders will be higher and more powerful, and they'll keep using bombs, and taking lives because we're too weak to stop them."  
"PJ, you don't understand-"  
"I don't understand? No Dan, you're the one who doesn't understand. They're Siders, they're evil, they're all evil, and that boyfriend of yours is no different."   
"No, PJ," Dan shouts, standing up, and pushing his chair back. He raises his hand, jabbing his finger in PJ's face. His eyes squint in anger. "You don't know him, not as I do. He doesn't want to hurt me."  
"How can you be so sure?" PJ asks calmly, leant up against the wall with his arms crossed over his abdomen. "What, do you have his word? His promise? Promises break like thin ice Dan. I would know."   
"PJ, please."   
"Dan, can you just listen, for a moment?" He snaps loudly, and Dan slowly retreats back into the chair he kicked behind him. "I'm going to tell you this because I care about you, and I want you safe." PJ pauses, sighing deeply. "It was about a year ago- before you joined, and it was a mission, you know, simple. The Siders were much less well-known back then, there were only a few agents on their side. I met this girl. I knew right away that she was a Sider, but I didn't react, because she was crying. You know what I'm like, I couldn't leave her, so I approached her, and we talked about it, and she basically told me her entire life story and in the end, I felt bad for her." PJ sits down in the chair opposite Dan, his gaze focused on the wood grain of the desk in front of him. "Her name was Sophie. We became friends just like that," PJ breathed, snapping his fingers absentmindedly. "We met up all the time, she wired my radio so I could talk to her, so developing a crush was inevitable. It all went so quickly, and then almost before I knew it, we were together. She was perfect, and I knew it couldn't last, it was never going to, what we had was wrong and it was pointless to imagine a future with her. That didn't stop me though. I got looped in, I fell for her too hard, and then I had to suffer the consequences. It was all a trap. Of course, I had my suspicions, any half-decent agent would, but she was so good at pretending, I fell for it." PJ sighed heavily, dragging his hands down his face.   
"You don't have to carry on," Dan muttered, getting over the initial shock of PJ's confession.  
"No, no, I will. I have to, you have to know. One mission, one day, it just happened. Before I could fight back, defend myself, I was thrown into the back of this car, my hands tied. She took my radio, so I couldn't call for help, and she took everything I had, my gun, everything. They took me back to their fucking base thing, and it was awful." PJ stops, breathing out slowly. He pulls his hands away from his face, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. "I don't know how long I was there for, my hands restrained, there was no way for me to get out. They interrogated me, day in; day out, as much as I could tell, about what our team was up to, about our plans, and what we knew about the Siders. I didn't say a word, I wouldn't, I couldn't let Howard down like that. Fortunately, one night I found this screw on the floor, and I unpicked the locks on the cuffs they'd put on me. The office door was unlocked, and I escaped- just about. That's why I wasn't taking missions when you joined, it wouldn't have been safe." PJ leaned in closer, staring into Dan's eyes. "What I'm saying is, I fell for Sophie just like you've fallen for Phil, and look where that got me. Just be careful, please, I don't want you to go through that. If he changes in any way, starts asking you about the team, if he gets too overprotective, just be careful. Be ready to defend yourself if you have to. They used the 'love' technique before," PJ sighed, making quotation marks with his fingers. "Who's to say they aren't going to do it again?"

Dan is silent, and everything falls into place. Dan knew PJ would have been protective, it's common sense when your best friend is dating a member of a team which is known for killing people, causing havoc, and targeting members of their own team, but now it seemed more reasoned. PJ had gone through exactly what Dan had feared, of course he would warn Dan, he would want his best friend to learn from the mistakes that he'd made. He looks up quickly.

"PJ, I'm sorry you went through that," Dan sighed. "You don't deserve to have your heart broken, to be betrayed like that. I know now why you're trying to warn me, I understand; I'll follow your advice- I will."

"Thank you, Dan. I just want you safe, you know that." PJ stands up, pushing his chair under the desk and Dan follows quickly. "Now come on," PJ smirks, opening the office door, and sticking his head out. "I think Howard wanted us all to meet soon. Something to do with some new radios, and a new employee? I don't know."

-

"You said you had a plan?" Phil asks as they sit together on the roof of the building. Their backs are pressed against the cold metal of a large box, and the only entrance to the roof is way out of sight, and they'd hear if the door opened. It's getting late, the sun is just about to set, and the air is cold, but they're huddled together, arms around shoulders and fingers intertwined so their bodies are warm.

"Did I?" Dan asks quietly, gazing at the horizon, littered with skyscrapers and completed by hills in the very distance, dark and shadowy as the amber sun slowly sinks behind them.

"Yeah, last week, in the alley," Phil mutters, shuffling slightly so his pale face is pressed further into Dan's chest. It's blissful.

"Oh yeah, that."

"What was it?"

"It was stupid, pointless. Why'd you want to know?" Dan asks, briefly aware of his fingers gently grazing the other boy's soft hair, and marvelling at the contrast between the ink black strands and the pale of his fingers, nipped at by the cold.

"I don't want to do this anymore. I've got a bad feeling that something's going to happen if we don't get out of here soon," Phil hums softly. Dan's eyebrows furrow.

"Bad feeling?"

"Yeah, you know, feeling like someone's trying to warn you about something." Dan focuses on the gentle pressure of Phil's hand encasing his own, the frequent yet soft grazing of Phil's rough fingertips against his knuckles, the way their thumbs are pressed against each other.

"I know what you mean," Dan exhaled, the warm air visible as it swirled in the cold evening air around the two. "But then I don't. What's got you all on edge?" There's a moment of silence, and he can practically hear Phil's mind working overdrive.

"I had a dream, but it was different, more real. More like a vision- I suppose- if you get what I'm saying," Phil hums.

"What happened?"

"It was scary. So scary. The worst dream- nightmare- whatever that I've ever had. It was you, and you'd been taken by some of the agents on my side, and I just heard you screaming, for me, for help. I woke up and I was crying. I couldn't deal with losing you. I want to protect you with my life, with everything I have. I love you."

Dan's grip tightens, holding the other boy close against him. He presses his lips to the dark mess of hair atop Phil's head as his own mind struggles to reply.

"I'm safe," He starts, dragging his palm up and down Phil's arm to try and keep him warm. "I'm protected, you know I am, by the agents on my side, by Howard, by you. I am trained, Phil. They'd have a hard time getting through me."

"I know. You're the best agent I've ever met."

Dan smiles, breathing out contently.

"I highly doubt that. You haven't seen PJ when he's really trying, it's outstanding," Dan chuckles. His mind flashes to PJ for a moment- or more specifically- the one time Dan watched PJ fight off three Siders simultaneously, in the midst of trying to defuse a bomb, whilst Dan stood across the room, awestruck, even with his hands tied together and a gun pressed to the side of his head. One of Dan's favourite memories of PJ, which he enjoys bringing up every so often, much to PJ's disdain. Thinking of PJ, Dan's mind flickers to their conversation from a few days ago. It seems to be something that Dan is constantly reminded of, with it closely relating to his relationship with Phil, and the advice PJ gave him seems permanently burned into his brain.

"Yeah, well, when I met PJ he was accusing me of setting off bombs in the city centre and trying to take you away from me," Phil grumbled softly. Dan scoffed gently, a grin on his face. Phil pressed his hands against Dan's thigh, leaning up to press his lips to the dimple in his cheek. "Mine."

"He means well, you know. You're an agent from the opposite team, he was bound to be protective of me." Dan shuffles slightly where he's sat. "You need to meet him, he's lovely once you get to know him."

"I'm sure."

A blissful silence falls over the two, the sun tinted a deep red as the sun sinks below the dark horizon. The clouds are like balls of cotton stained pastel pink and baby blue. It's pleasing to the eye, and Dan sighs contently. He wants to stay in that moment forever, with Phil, and he's warm and the sky that surrounds him is wonderfully colourful. It's the epitome of peace, something Dan was sure he would never feel again.

All of a sudden the silence is broken, shattered like thin glass, and it startles the two, as broken glass would. There's a clang, heavy and metallic and it echoes around the space at the top of the building, ringing in Dan's ears. Phil's eyes widen, and his breaths become shallower. They both freeze. Dan turns his head slowly, careful to stay quiet, and makes eye contact with Phil. His icy blue eyes are filled with fear, and Dan carefully takes his shaking hand. There is a light scuffle of shoes on concrete, and then a voice.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Phil inhales sharply. Dan tips his head towards him quickly, asking if Phil recognises the voice because he sure as hell doesn't. Phil nods once, his eyes breaking contact to gaze at the landscape, focused on the noise that surrounds them.

"Look, Ryan, he clearly isn't here, let's just look through the building again."

"Boss will be fuming if we don't find him, so you can take the blame."

"Alright, whatever, let's just go."

The door slams shut again, and Dan leaves a brief moment of peace before exhaling heavily. He shuts his eyes.

"What the fuck was that?" He speaks, slouching back against the wall.

"I don't know, I don't know," Phil speaks, panicked. He pulls his hood back up, casting shadows on his face. "I've got to go." He stands up.

"Hey, what do you mean?" Dan asks, quickly following Phil and standing up next to him, brushing the dust off his legs. He leans over and gently slides their palms together until their fingers are intertwined. "Why?"

"They're after me, Dan. You know they are, just let me _go_." He tugs his hand out of Dan's grip harshly, pulls up his bandana, and turns on his heel, breaking into a run.

"Phil, come on," Dan speaks loudly. "At least say goodbye to me."

"Shut up! Just shut," Phil shouts, pausing before whispering. "Up." Dan is taken aback, and his eyebrows raise. "Dan, I didn't-"

"Whatever. Go, just go."

"Dan, please."

"Just go, Phil! Leave, if you have to, so bad, that you can't even be bothered to say goodbye to me," Dan spits, turning in his place so he doesn't have to look at the other boy. There is a glimmer of hope in his chest, that Phil will stay, say he loves him, apologise, but he doesn't.

"Fine, be that way." There's a scuffle of shoes, and then the loud creak of door hinges. The door slams shut behind him, making Dan shake with the impact. His throat suddenly feels dry as he gulps and blinks back tears. He shouldn't be crying over this. His breaths are sharp and quick, and he tips his head back to look at the dark sky. There's an ache in his chest, which he recognises, he's felt it before. It's awful, and it tears him apart each time. If there's one thing that Dan can't stand, it's arguing; especially not with loved ones, people who he cares about. He doesn't want to leave it like this, he doesn't want Phil to go away full of sorrow, as Dan is sure he himself will. He doesn't want it to be awkward the next time they meet, but Dan knows that Phil is surely long gone now and only time can tell what will happen between them.

With a sigh, he pulls out his radio. There are a few tweaks and a few buttons pressed before Dan makes it through.

"Hey, PJ?" he asks, stepping backwards to lean up against the wall of the small block which leads to the inside stairs.

"Dan, yeah, where are you? Howard is about to start talking, and I can't see you." PJ's voice is hushed and somewhat panicked.

"I'm on my way, I am."

"Good. Hurry up."

"I will, oh, and PJ?"

"Yes?"

"Can we meet, when we get back?"

PJ's harsh voice suddenly disappears, replaced with a soft, "Yes, of course."

"Thanks, Peej," Dan breathes.

"No problem, now do me a favour and get here already."

Dan chuckles softly, tipping his head forward before checking that he has everything that he came there with. With a final pat against his back pocket to feel for his radio, his other hand wraps around the feezing, steel handle of the door. He pulls it open immediately, wanting to meet PJ as soon as he could. The darkness of the outside is a vivid contrast towards the glowing white lights inside, and as his eyes take a moment to adjust, and his mind is distracted- everything changes. Almost the second he steps inside, there are hands on him. He yelps involuntarily, pain coursing through him as his mind registers that he is not alone. With a gasp, his mouth and nose are covered and then he can't breathe. His hands are pulled behind his back, and he screams as loud as he can whilst he struggles in the grips. He needs help; he isn't strong enough, nor has he had nearly enough training to take on whoever has ambushed him, and he has no idea how many of them are there, or what sort of weapons they carry. He kicks and thrashes out as much as he can, as instinct, but his body soon reminds him that he needs to breathe. He can't help it as he gasps for air from his covered mouth, and then everything grows hazy, he stops moving, and then he isn't aware of what is happening, but he doesn't think of a thing. His mind has shut down, it is blank.

-

When Dan drifts into consciousness, it arrives quickly, which he suspects has much to do with the fact that he is abruptly woken by his alarm each morning, and sometimes even from his radio, where the office is shouting at him that he needs to get up, the Siders are at it again. However, it seems much quicker this time, as Dan is all of a sudden made aware that he cannot see anything besides darkness, even with his eyes wide open, and the light pressure of fabric against his face. The smooth cold against his skin alerts him that he is sat in a wooden chair, typical, his hands bound behind the back, and his ankles roped to the legs. His memory begins to clear, and then he remembers the feeling of struggling, along with the shock of the attack. It's clear what has happened, and he groans, tipping his head back. The next thought that he receives is of PJ, strangely enough, and how he's been through this before. Oh, how this as exactly as PJ had feared- and Dan too, come to think of it.

He then shakes his head clear, well aware that he's getting distracted, and focuses on the matter at hand. Fear coursed through his veins, and his pulse beat wildly. He exhales deeply and reassures himself that this was identical to training, and he had passed that, multiple times, without a second thought. If PJ can do it, then so can he. Dan closes his eyes, focusing on the position of his body, and trying to make himself entirely aware of the exact position he's in. His hands move a little with the give of the rope, and he feels his way up one arm as much as he can, looking for the sleeve, where he knows there is a tiny blade, made just for these situations. But there is nothing there, just skin. His eyebrows furrow and he swaps hands to check the other arm. It comes up empty again. There's no way his sleeves are rolled up, he would feel it, but then his stomach sinks as he realises, and shakes his arm to feel the loose fabric grazing against his elbow. They've cut his sleeves off, the clever bastards, Dan thinks. They don't forget anything. There is another blade in the sole of his boot, but his feet are cold and bare against solid concrete. As he struggles, searching for any give or any lax rope, the thought dawns on him that he might not be alone. He suddenly freezes. Sure, Dan hadn't heard anyone else but it doesn't mean that there isn't anybody watching from the darkness, silent but present nonetheless.

"H-Hello?" He stutters bravely, although it comes out a little muffled due to the sack that Dan is pretty sure has been pulled over his head. There is silence. "Hello?" He tries again.

"Alright, Alright, no need to panic, jeez." Dan is startled by the voice, not expecting a reply. The voice is strangely familiar, and Dan's eyebrows furrow. He knows that voice, but he can't quite put his finger on it. He dismisses the thought, banishing it from his mind as it seemed unnecessary, which it was. He focuses back on the situation at hand.

"What do you want with me?" Dan spits, leaning forward to try and slide his wrists out of the restraints. The rope burns his skin, and he grimaces. The restraints don't change. "I haven't got anything, I don't know anything that you don't already know. Please, let me go!"

The voice chuckles, dark and evil, and then there is the sound of shoes against solid concrete.

"Well, you see, Daniel Howell, there is one thing I want from you."

"How the fuck do you know my name?" Dan snapped. His breathing is beginning to become laboured, his heart pounding quickly in his chest. He is overcome by panic.

"There's a lot that I know about you," The voice speaks one more, and Dan can almost feel the presence behind him. It's terrifying. His palms are sweating like anything, as well as the rest of his body, and his feet fidget as a nervous instinct, tapping against the floor softly. "Including your little relationship. Rendezvousing during missions, kissing and cuddling. It makes me sick. And all with someone on the opposite side. I only let it go on for so long because I knew it wouldn't last."

Dan swallows anxiously, but his throat is dry and rough like sandpaper. The last thing he wants is Phil hurt. He's reminded of their spat, their silly, pointless argument, and how it ended, and he lets out a dry sob.

"Don't hurt him, please, just don't hurt him."

The room is filled with noise, louder than before, and Dan wishes he could see what was happening. There are hushed whispers that he can't make out, and then a cry.

"Please, no, I'm sorry!" Phil. Dan knows that straight away. His voice is so comfortingly familiar, deep- yet soft, with that edge of northern that makes Dan feel safe and warm. Yet this time he swears his heart stops. Phil's voice is full of pain, it's desperate and choked out. Dan just wants to hold him.

"Well, well, Dan. Look who came by to say 'hello'."

"Don't touch him!" Dan cries, once again struggling in his seat. There's the sickening clap of skin against skin, before Phil groans and falls to his knees. The smooth stone is cold, yet somewhat refreshing against his bruised face, and he lies there, his body aching all over, and closes his eyes.

"Look at him," The unknown voice orders, swiftly pulling the fabric from over Dan's head from behind, still not revealing his identity.

The light burns Dan's eyes, he hadn't expected it to be so bright, but after the pain had subsided, and he had blinked the dryness away, he looks down in front of him. It's Phil, of course, curled up. Dan's eyes instantly fill with tears.

"Phil," He sobs, leaning forward. The other man looks up slightly, pushing himself up as far as he can with his weak arms. His face is purple, black, all the colours it shouldn't be, and there's a hefty graze at his hairline with blood running down from it. His bottom lip is split, and his right eye is swollen, and that's just his face. Dan couldn't even bear to imagine the state of the rest of him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Phil wheezes, coughing afterwards. It's loud, and Dan winces.

"It's not," Dan whimpers, tears rolling down his cheeks, clearing streaky lines where the grime is wiped clear. "This shouldn't have happened."

"It was inevitable." Phil pushes himself to sit up, and he smiles sadly at Dan, tears at the brim of his own waterline. "Don't cry, baby."

"You've never been one for pet names," Dan chuckles wetly, displaying a forced smile to echo Phil's- if only to convince them both for a moment that they might be okay.

"Maybe now is the time to start?"

"Alright, cut it out, you two," The voice groans. "Fucking disgusting." Dan turns his head, trying to see who's voice he can hear; it's so painstakingly familiar. His neck aches and his arms are tied in such a way that he can't see directly behind him, inconveniently- exactly where his captor is stood.

"What do you want from me, from us? Please, just let us go," Dan pleads desperately, his head hung in defeat. "I can get you money, anything, please."

"Oh, Dan. You think you stand a chance." The voice is mocking, its evil and wicked, just like the person behind it. "You want to know who I am, don't you? I won't lie, I expected you to recognise me straight away. You clearly don't visit Howard's office nearly enough."

When Dan takes in those words, it all becomes clear, and his head flies up. Sure enough, stood in front of him is the one person he never would have expected. Dean Dobbs.

Dan is instantly taken aback as his mind takes a moment to register exactly what is going on. Everything slots into place at once, and it's overwhelming. There's a gun in his tight grip- which glimmers in the light, and Dan's stomach sinks down further than it was already if that was even possible. It's only now that he's truly worried about his life. He could be dead in an hour- or less. God knows. His head bows and he closes his eyes in defeat.

Dan pictures his family. His lovely mum, with dark hair and rosy cheeks. He tries to remember what her hugs feel like- how warm they are, how they radiate love, but struggles, for he hasn't seen his mum in years. Dan remembers her reaction when he had told her he'd been offered the job. How she had sobbed when he had told them all about it. How he had reassured her that it would all be fine and that he was mostly in safe hands- to begin with anyways, and her hugs. Warm and safe and so representative of home. He could let go when his mum had held him.

His dad had hugged him too, but not for nearly as long- more of a 'pat on the back' kind of guy. There had seemed to be an aura of disappointment around him, which Dan had expected. They had always pushed him, encouraged him to do something big, something that paid well, something classed as a 'real profession.' Still, no negative words were exchanged between them, and that was enough for Dan.

And Phil. Sure, he could simply open his eyes and see the boy in front of him- but he had changed. The Phil he knew had a smile on his face, was strong and courageous and full of hope. The Phil in front of him was none of those things. The Phil in front of him was broken, shattered even, possibly beyond repair. Dan would try, either way, if he got out of there, that was. Plus, it's not like it mattered, for Dan still loved him, with everything he had, but if it was the end then he would rather treasure the blissful times than focus on the dark.

There's a click from beside him, but his eyes stay shut. He's given up.

"You see, Dan," Dobbs starts, slowly stepping towards him. "You'll be my bait. An example, so to speak." He turns the weapon in his hands, playing with it carelessly. "To Howard. You see, I've tricked him, I've tricked you, I've tricked every person who works on your pathetic team, into thinking I'm Howard's piteous little sidekick. But I'm so much more, I'm the leader of the Siders." He lets out a gut-wrenching cackle, and Dan chokes tearfully. "Hard to believe, isn't it, after all this time. Well, you know what they say, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em." There's cold metal pressed against the side of his head, and Dan's chest aches. He had never meant for it to end like this. "You're all going down, each and every one of you. Let this be a lesson to you, Howell, as well as your useless leader. I will ruin you all."

Dan's watery eyes open, and make contact with Phil's, which are full of fear. His mouth is open over so slightly, and his fingers press hard onto the concrete. There's nothing that either of them can do. This is it, this is how it ends.

Then the silence is broken, the door is thrown open. Dan gasps uncontrollably, after having held his breath. His eyes dart up, and in the doorway stands PJ, his eyes wide at the scene. His normally neat curls are dishevelled, and there appears to be a graze along the side of his shocked face, but it isn't the time to talk about that. Dan closes his eyes and pleads that Dean will move the gun away, that PJ will take him down. However, nothing happens.

"Well, Liguori, fancy seeing you here."

"What's going on?" He gawps, looking around, first at Phil, still sobbing and suffering on the concrete, then Dan, and finally Dobbs, with a wicked grin on his face. "Dobbs? Dan- what are you-?"

He is interrupted by a sickening, almost ear-splitting crack, which resonates around the vast warehouse, causing them all to flinch. It's the all too familiar sound of a gunshot, and it seems to echo once- equally as loud- before the atmosphere is spun back into silence. No one dares to speak or open their eyes until there is a soft thud.

Dobbs hits the floor, his skin ever so slowly growing paler, a stain of crimson slowly growing over his chest, which drools down to paint the cold stone. His mouth is open, and he softly exhales his last breath. The leader of the Siders is dead.

Everything happens so quickly, it's difficult to keep up with it all. PJ's hands are empty, too slow to take out his gun, which he isn't even sure he still has. Phil wouldn't have had his own to hand, and even if he had, his hands were shaking like anything. Dan, of course, wasn't exactly in the best position, and Dobbs' hand hadn't moved at all. It was only with the slam of the door on the other side of the room that everything became obvious.

"PJ?"

Their heads fly up, and on the other side of the room stands a girl, around their age, with a gun in her hands. Her soft doe eyes are wide and focused on PJ, who lets his mouth fall open. Her pecan hair is wavy and tied back behind her head, and much like the others, she seems to have been injured at some point. One of her eyes seems swollen, and she stands, shaking with a limp.

"Sophie," PJ breathes. He steps backwards, and her scared eyes soften as she watches him move away. "Don't come near me."

"PJ- I haven't seen you in so long. You- You've changed." She makes her way over, her hands lowering as she discards the weapon onto the concrete. It clatters loudly but doesn't startle her. There is definitely a limp in her step, but as she approaches the curly-haired boy she slows. Her teeth sink into her lower lip and her head falls. "I'm sorry."

"Soph. Sophie," PJ speaks. "Please, go."

"PJ, will you listen to me?" She spits, reaching out and grasping as his forearms. "Please." PJ pulls his hands out of Sophie's weak grip.

"You ruined me, Soph. I gave you everything I had, I trusted you with my life, I loved you, more than anything, and you took that and you betrayed me. I wanted to spend forever with you- I couldn't imagine anyone else- and you ruined that for me." He glares at her, staring her down even with the tears on his waterline. He's finally getting the chance to say how he feels, and he's not going to give it up. "I can't trust anybody now, Soph. No one- and that's because of you."

By the end, it's not just PJ who is teary-eyed, as Sophie has her own tears dribbling down her face.

"I didn't want to, PJ. I loved you, so much, I still do. I didn't want to hurt you, I never wanted to do what I did. He knew, PJ, he knew we were seeing each other and he used it against me, against us, saying that if I didn't trick you, if I didn't do that to you, then he'd kill you, he'd kill you right in front of me. I thought I could save you; thought you could escape, so I did it. I couldn't risk it, PJ. It was that or your life." She looks into his expressionless eyes.

Meanwhile, Phil is breathing heavily as he sobs. He's safe, he's fine, and so is Dan. He is free now, and that's all he's ever wanted. Grinning, he makes his way over to the other boy. Dan's eyes are still shut, and Phil whispers to him, his voice gone.  
"Dan, Dan, we're safe. Open your eyes."   
Dan's eyes stay shut, and a twinge in Phil's stomach tells him something is wrong. He reaches up, taking Dan's face in his hands. He ignores the blistering pain in his knees as he kneels up. He goes to whisper again when his fingers touch something wet on the side of his head. Phil quickly frowns deeply, pulling his fingers away to see they are stained with crimson. "No, no no," He whispered absentmindedly. Gently tilting Dan's head, Phil stares, his mouth open at the blood that mattes down Dan's curls. He squints, his eyes teary in anxiety and fear, but it's too dark to see the source of the blood. He scrambles to hold Dan's face up before turning to the couple next to him. "P-PJ, Sophie, Help, P-Please."

It drags them out of their conversation quickly, and PJ rushes over, Sophie stood in shock. PJ stands next to Phil and rushes to try and understand what has happened. Sophie then hurries over, tugging a knife out of her belt and hacking through the rope that keeps Dan's hands tied. With this, Dan falls forward, and Phil catches him in his arms. He presses his face into Dan's soft hair as Sophie cuts the rope around his ankles.

"It's okay," Phil mutters, more to himself than anyone else. "We're gonna get you out of here. You're gonna be fine. They're gonna take you to the hospital, and they'll have a look at you and then you'll go, and you'll be okay, and there won't-"

"Phil?" PJ asks, holding onto Dan as well. "We've got to go, okay? We can't stay here. There are people outside who can help us, help Dan. Can you carry him?" Phil nods hastily.

He isn't sure how he manages to do it, pick him up. His arms have always been weak, and especially with the way he's been treated recently, he feels weaker than ever. But he manages it. For Dan. Phil wraps one arm around Dan's lifeless shoulders and hooks his other under Dan's knees. Pulling him close, Phil stands. Blinking back tears, he quickly makes his way through the door that PJ is holding open, and is confronted by the stairs that he had run up earlier. He gulps dryly and then makes his way down them, almost stumbling but then making it through the doors into the blinding sunlight. He squints, but as soon as he can make out the scene in front of him, he realises there are herds of people around him. He grips Dan just that little bit tighter. He feels PJ and Sophie brush past him and they stand beside him awkwardly. From the crowd of people, a figure appears, pushing the rest of the people aside. It's Howard. His glasses are wonky, along with his jacket, and his hair is dishevelled.   
"Get off him!" He shouts, approaching Phil and roughly grasping Dan.

"Jack," PJ speaks quietly. "Jack, don't. He's okay." Howard steps back, an expression of shock on his face. When he looks over at PJ, he spots Sophie and his eyebrows raise.

"Is that-"

"Sophie. This is Sophie."

"What the fuck is going on?"

"That-" Phil starts, gripping Dan tighter than ever. "That doesn't matter. Someone, please, help him."

The crowd parts again, and two paramedics run through, bags in hand. They approach Phil quickly.

"Sir, we need you to put him down." Phil clutches Dan close to him, shaking his head. Tears appear in his eyes again. "Sir, we can't help him otherwise." Sophie puts her hand on his shoulder, and he looks at her quickly, tears falling down his cheeks. She nods and Phil sighs deeply. Slowly, he crouches and lays Dan across the concrete in front of him. They rush to him, the paramedics, and Phil is gently pulled backwards, his gaze transfixed on Dan's pale face.

"H-He's gonna be okay, right, Sophie?" He stutters, feeling absolutely sick. His hands shake, and he pushes them through his hair. She doesn't reply. Phil looks over to see PJ desperately explaining something to Howard, and he sighs shakily. He doesn't want to look at anything. Not Dan, not the crowd that surrounds them, not Howard, or PJ, or even Sophie, so he closes his eyes. His knees feel weak, and he lowers himself to the ground so he's sat against the wall. The pain and panic mingle in his chest, he's beyond overwhelmed from everything that has gone on. He buries his face in his shaking hands and falls into a blissful headspace where everything is quiet and time is nonexistent. He doesn't feel cold stone against his back, and the throbbing in his head has finally ceased. The pain that fills his body is numb at last and his mind is blank.

When he opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is that he is no longer sat against the same wall he was sat against beforehand. He's been moved to sit against a nearby railing of some sort, and he notices he is sat on the grass. There is a soft, baby blue blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and it reminds Phil of home, of comfort and of safety, and he feels all to content to fall back asleep. That is until his mind focuses on the fact that the world around him is far quieter than he remembers it being. There's the mumble of distant conversations and the general hum of the streets, and it soothes Phil a little, at least until the pain kicks in. It does so eventually, spreading throughout him as quickly as it had disappeared, making his eyebrows furrow in discomfort. However, the ache in his head was slightly more bearable, and some of the grazes on his pale skin had stopped stinging so bad. He wipes at his squinting eyes with the back of his grimy hand, teary from just waking up, and notices that they've been bandaged up with pristine gauze, which makes him feel a little better.

Looking up, he takes in the scene in front of him. There are police cars everywhere, and an ambulance nearby. He spots Howard ranting to a policeman, gesturing wildly with quivering hands. He looks a mess, but Phil knows the majority of people here do. He sees what he thinks to be PJ, but can't be too sure as he is obscured by a police car, and can only see the back of his head anyway. When he looks sideways, he sees Sophie nattering quietly to one of the paramedics, a kind-faced man, who couldn't have been older than thirty, with light stubble and walnut brown, floppy hair. He is, of course, dressed head to toe in the striking green fluorescent uniform, which almost hurts Phil's weary eyes to look at.

When Sophie glances over at him, at first nonchalantly, her eyes widen and her face contorts to an expression that Phil finds himself unable to read. It seems similar to guilt, and Phil suddenly becomes curious. She pardons herself politely with a gentle hum to the paramedic, before dashing over, trying to make herself seem casual, but walking far too quickly to do so. Coming to a stop, she crouches down so she is at Phil's level.

"Phil, love," She mumbles. He knows she doesn't mean harm, in fact even the opposite. It's an affectionate name, 'love,' but it reminds Phil so strongly of Dan and his heart twinges with an ache in his chest. He sighs shakily. "Phil?"

"Yeah, what- what's going on?" He stutters, moving his tired and weary arms to wrap around his cold frame.

"I'm sorry," She starts, and Phil notices her own waterline is glossy with tears. He's confused, and the feeling of dread in his gut returns with a flash of Dan's motionless body, his cold skin, his lifeless gaze all in front of Phil's eyes. He inhales quickly and sharply, and it stings his parched throat, reminding him of how dry his mouth is.

"Sorry, for what?" He breathes, so quiet that he's not sure Sophie even heard him. She breathes quietly, before holding out a hand. Phil grasps onto it, and the metal rail behind him to pull himself up to stand, the blood finally rushing to his feet. Sophie tilts her head slightly as if to beckon him as she moves forward. Phil follows her tentatively. He knows people are watching them, the limping, wobbly pair that are visibly injured, hobbling across a suspected area of crime. They don't go where they aren't permitted to, but the police in the area watch them suspiciously. They reach the area where Phil remembers falling unconscious, and it's blocked off, by a police car, and some strategically placed sheets. He doesn't think too much of it until he spots PJ. His hair is a complete mess, more than it is normally, his curls sticking out at wild angles. It would have seemed somewhat comedic if it weren't for the expression on his face. His hand was clasped over his mouth and his eyes were screwed shut as constant tears flowed down his face like a stream. He paced a certain area, back and forth, using his hand to stifle sobs of grief and teary gasps. He was in pain, that much was certain, and Phil felt sorry for him until he started to ponder the reasons for his pain.

Phil's heart drops and he swears it skips a beat.   
"Sophie?" He asks quietly. "Where- Where is Dan?" Turning quickly, he sees her head bow. It almost doesn't seem real, everything that is happening, and Phil prays for it to be that way, for him to wake up from this nightmare and realise that it's all just a figment of his wild imagination. However, no matter how many times he screws his eyes shut to try and will himself awake, and his fingers nip at the pale skin of his hands to see if the pain he feels is really there, nothing at all seems to change.

"Phil, I'm sorry. They- they couldn't do anything for him. He was probably dead when we found him, they said. I'm so, so sorry, love."

"Where is he, Sophie?" Phil rasps, grasping her shoulders firmly. He doesn't want to hurt her, but he needs to know.

"They won't let you see him," Sophie cries, shaking her head solemnly.

"Sophie," Phil whispers desperately. His grip goes weak, and he lets his hands fall to his sides. "Please."

She raises a shaking hand, pointing miserably to the covered up area. There are a few policemen talking, accompanied by one paramedic. Sophie's hand rests gently in the centre of Phil's back- a comforting gesture to somewhat slow his racing pulse. He breathes deeply, calming himself down enough to talk. The conversation dies down as they realise Phil has joined them slowly, and Phil clears his throat, going to speak before being interrupted.

"Whoa, mate, you can't come through here, sorry."

Phil inhales sharply, panic racing through him as his knees grow ever so slightly weaker. His mouth opens, and he doesn't know what to say. His throat is parched, and he gulps quickly, shutting his mouth and running a tongue over his bitten and dry lips.

"Please," Is all that comes out, and Phil inhales deeply again to try and stop himself from bursting into desperate tears. "I have to see him. I- I have to."

"Do you know him?" The paramedic asks, stepping forward ever so slightly, and glancing down at a folded piece of paper through thick-framed glasses. "This, Daniel James Howell?"

"Yes, yes, I do. He was- he is- he's-"

"They were very close," A voice calls from behind him. Phil's head turns. Its PJ, looking rather worse for wear. He's stood right there, hands at his sides, his voice thick and croaky and his cheeks stained with salty tears, but there's a gentle smile on his face, and Phil can't help but feel a little warmer. PJ's hand rests on Phil's shoulder. "Closer than anyone Dan had ever known. Let him through, please."

One officer huffs slightly.   
"I shouldn't be doing this, you know," He groans, his voice nasal and irritating, but Phil couldn't focus on that now. "You won't have long- we're just waiting on a van. Why you decided to get here by car puzzles me," he grunts to the paramedic. PJ pats him on the back just once, and then Phil is hurried through, the officer keeping a close eye on him.

He knows, that Dan isn't okay. If Dan was alright then Sophie would have said something, then PJ's face wouldn't have been lined with streaks from tears, then Howard wouldn't have looked so dishevelled, then there wouldn't be an ache deep in Phil's stomach that made him feel like something was wrong. Phil thinks back to the feeling of Dan in his arms, limbs heavy and unmoving, skin pale, blood on his fingers, that still remains there. He won't stop washing his hands for days.   
Dan's skin is as pale as crisp snow, as sheets of ice, and looks about as cold as it, too. He can't see a lot of it, but his palm, facing up to the sky, is almost blue. Approaching him, Phil falls to his knees, which hurts as they slam against the concrete, but is nothing compared to the ache in his chest. His fingertips gently graze Dan's skin, and it's just as cold as Phil had imagined. Cold, like going for a walk on a winters day without any gloves, that kind of cold. He intertwined their fingers, but Dan doesn't squeeze back like he usually does.

"Hey, Dan?" Phil asks quietly. Tears forming in his eyes again. Phil doesn't know if it's possible to run out of tears, but it's not out of the question at his rate. Dan's face lacks all expression. He looks like he's sleeping, but there are no heavy breaths to accompany his slumber. His mouth is open the smallest amount, his lips the colour of lilacs that bloom in spring. He looks so at peace, eyes shut and soft mocha curls draped across his face. "Hey, wake up." Nothing happens, nothing can happen, it's impossible. Phil leans over, his tears finally falling, and shakes Dan, ever so gently. "Dan, come on. Please, for me?" The blood on the side of Dan's head is still there, slowly drying, and the bruises on his skin seem even more prominent now that he's paler than a sheet of paper. There are still burns around his wrists and ankles from the ropes. Phil is glad he won't feel pain any more. He lowers himself down until he's lying across the rough pavement, watching Dan's face. His hair sometimes shifts with a gentle breeze, but other than that, he is still. "I love you," Phil speaks, squeezing Dan's hand gently. He won't ever hear it back.

Two bodies lie on bloodstained concrete- one dead and one hardly breathing.

_'Lay us down, we're in love.'_


End file.
